Two is Better Than Alone
by The AsianWeasley Twins908
Summary: Harry is a powerful little eight year old and his magic has flung him backwards in time to protect him from the dangers around him. Clueless of what happened, he makes his own life and finds a real family in the deal. Time travel story.


Disclaimer: I have hijacked J.K. Rowling's identity and am parading around my ownership of these lovely ideas...Darn. That one doesn't quite work, does it...

A/N – George here! Fred and I haven't had a laptop for a few months, but we've got one now! I managed to beat Fred off long enough to write my very first chapter. Heads up, there will be implied abuse in this story. There will be NO horcruxes in this story. I feel Horcrux Hunts are boring and there are always plenty of other people that will write about it. One last thing. Please review! I like to know what readers think. Mainly for my own selfish purposes though, it gives me lightning moments of genius ;)

**Chapter One – The Escape**

Everything is dark, and every part of his body aches. He cracks an eye open, and to his relief, he's back in the safe darkness of his cupboard under the stairs. Uncle Vernon had been especially harsh in punishing Harry for his "freakish-ness." Aunt Petunia had received a call from his teacher earlier in the day (or yesterday, Harry wasn't really sure what time it was) that he had been found on the roof of the school by the rubbish bins. Aunt Petunia had been furious by the time he got home from school, and had been locked in his cupboard until Uncle Vernon returned from work to "deal" with the "freak."

The worst of it was, Harry wasn't sure how it had even happened. One moment, he was running from Dudley and his gang, the next, he was up on the roof near the school kitchens. It was almost like magic. But when Harry had told that to Uncle Vernon, his already red face went purple. Then the beating began. After that, everything was a blur and he was pretty sure he wasn't conscious by the end of it as he didn't remember returning to his cupboard.

He shivered, and looked down at himself. Realizing that the back of his shirt was soaked in his blood, he gingerly pushed himself up off of his side and attempted to yank it over his head. It was painful and slow going, but he managed it and pulled a relatively clean, oversized grey tee on gently. He gasped in pain as it brushed against his still healing lash marks. Carefully, he lowered himself back down to lay on his thin futon then slowly dragged his rag of a blanket to cover him.

The tears began to silently drip down Harry's face as he lay there in the foetal position. Why did no one care about him? He wanted – no, he _needed_ – to get away from the Dursleys. They obviously didn't care about him. He was always told that he didn't deserve to be loved and he was lucky they had even taken him in. But he read in a book about a girl who went to live with her great aunts, uncle, and eight cousins. All of them loved her. She was in the same position as him almost! Why did no one care about him? Was he really just an unlovable freak?

His tears were beginning to sting the bruise on his cheek, so he pulled up the neckline of the over large shirt and lightly patted the tears so the shirt would absorb the salty moisture. He closed his eyes and visualized a grove of trees that peaceful and quiet and far, far away from Privet Drive number 4. He would give anything to be there, and away from the Dursleys. Just before he felt himself drifting off into unconsciousness, he felt a tingling, tugging sensation just below his navel.

* * *

His cupboard smelled freshly of dirt and plants and kind of like rain. He confused as to how his cupboard had managed to stop smelling of old blood, stale sweat, fear, and dust over night. His body was much to sore to even consider getting up, so he continued to lay there. Somebody was shouting though. It must be Aunt Petunia telling him to get up and make breakfast. He kept his eyes shut for just a while longer hoping she would leave and come back in five minutes. He was just _so sore. _

Harry felt a hand shaking his shoulder and he sat up so fast he was seeing spots. How had he not even heard his cupboard being opened!? Typically, there was a lot of rattling and thumping and jeering. If they managed to enter his cupboard, while escaping his notice, who was telling what they would do. He scrambled backwards before even looking around at him or his attacker.

Confusion and fear were beginning to ride over everything going on in Harry's mind. 1)He was somehow not in his cupboard,

2)He did not recognize the individual that was eyeing him,

3)He was not even in the Dursley's house.

What was going on?! Looking around at his surroundings again, Harry realized that this was the place he had pictured right before he fell asleep. But how? How did Harry get here? He didn't even know that this was a real place! Suddenly, Harry remembered that he was in potential danger and his head whipped back around to study the stranger. The dark haired youth started, surprised by the abrupt change in the vividly green-eyed boy's attention.

The boy Harry didn't recognize, had dark hair that hung limply to his chin and had eyes as dark as his midnight hair. Harry, he figured, had about the same coloured hair as his would be attacker. Though, the dark eyed boy hadn't attacked Harry so far, so he guessed the dark eyed boy wasn't a threat. Yet.

Both boys continued to study each other until the dark eyed one spoke. "Why can't I feel you?" he demanded.

Yet again, Harry was confused. The dark eyed boy continued, saying, "It's like you're dead! You have no emotions coming off of you! Your eyes are blank and your face shows no expression, so I can't even guess at what you're feeling."

By the end of the dark eyed youth's tirade, he was breathing hard. Then his eyes widened with wonder as his senses started filling with the swirling emotions he could tell were coming from the other boy. "How did you do that?" the dark eyed youth exclaimed, once again demanding answers.

The green-eyed boy just cocked his head and allowed a small smile to appear on his lips. He had let down his visualized walls that he used to keep back his emotions. He found it interesting that the other boy could actually feel the difference of when he was and wasn't hiding his emotions. It was almost like, _magic_. But no, that couldn't be it. The Dursleys had said that magic didn't exist and only _freaks_ like him would believe otherwise.

Harry wasn't completely sure he could believe the Dursleys though. Too many things that didn't make sense had happened to and near him for there to be any other possible explanation but magic. Like when he had been running away from Dudley and his gang, he had just appeared on the roof of the school, and he certainly hadn't climbed up the side of the building. Another time when he was younger, he had turned a teacher's hair blue, and once he had even grown all of his hair back overnight when Aunt Petunia had shaved it all off. Or sometimes, Harry could see things about people; like an idea of what someone did over their weekend or a premonition of something that might happen to a person, be it tripping, or winning a prize at a birthday party. He couldn't explain any of those things.

Snapping back to reality, Harry realized that the dark-eyed boy was saying something. Cocking his head again, Harry sent a questioning look at the other. Glaring, the other boy repeated his query and continued, "What are you doing in this area? How did you even find this place? Because this place is mine! And you should leave!"

Harry wasn't sure what to say to the boy, and figuring it best to continue in silence, he shrugged. "Where's your family? Did you sleep out here or something?"

The dark-eyed boy felt a flash of fear and panic before the green-eyed boy's emotions were gone again and completely blank. The dark-eyed boy was surprised at the green-eyed boy's reaction to his question and wondered if the other boy had a bad family like his. Looking closer, the dark-eyed boy saw that the other kid was stiff and had tell tale bruises that peeked out from around his over large shirt collar, and sleeves. There was also a dark bruise just below the other boy's right eye that he hadn't noticed before, he had been too caught up in the other boy's emotions or lack there of.

The dark eyed boy introduced himself saying, "I'm Severus. Severus Snape."

Harry flinched when the dark eyed – no, Severus – stuck his hand out to shake his hand. Realizing that Severus probably wasn't going to beat him up, he reached to shake the still outreached appendage. He didn't bother saying his name though. If the Severus heard his name, he'd probably not bother talking to him after that. Most school children Harry's age knew of Dudley and his gang, and never talked to Harry because Dudley and his gang would go after those that did.

Severus stared at the other boy, and wondered if the green-eyed boy would come with him to his house. His father wouldn't be home for two more days and his mother could make bruise paste for this strange boy he met. Holding his hand out again, he asked, "Do you want to come to my house for a while? My mum brews stuff that can help with your bruises."

Severus didn't know why he felt like he needed to help this boy, but he felt a connection of sorts with this green-eyed boy. So he held out his hand again so he could lead the other boy to his home. The other boy eyed Severus' hand warily, but took it and allowed Severus to lead him away from the peaceful grove of trees.

* * *

In the kitchen of Spinner's End, Eileen Snape nee Prince was doing her necessary brewing so she would have potions done and ready by the time her husband returned home. She had just finished putting away a few vials of bruise balm and a few draughts of Dreamless Sleep. Eileen heard some noise in the entry way, and began cleaning up her potions supplies to greet her son.

Suddenly, she was struck with a multitude of images and visions of a boy with messy black hair, striking green eyes and a scar on his forehead in the shape of the victory rune, sig. The visions and images showed the boy at many different ages, many of which showed the boy fighting against the evil of the Dark Lord. He was so young, he had to carry such a heavy burden his whole life from eleven years old onward.

Even before that, the boy had a hard life. Practically the life of a house elf, but worse. The beatings, oh, the_ beatings_! Just seeing people she assumed were his family, treating an obviously sweet child in such a way made her heart ache. It made her think of her dear little Severus. She protected him the best she could, but there was only so much she could do to keep him safe from his father and his drunken rages.

This boy carried his burden regardless of his troubles and bravely carried it till the day he died and defeated the Dark Lord. The battle between the two had been glorious and gruesome. Both were bloody and breathing raggedly as they circled each other searching out weaknesses in the other's guard. The Dark Lord flashed out a few spells towards the world weary younger man. As though that was the exact thing he was waiting for, he shot a spell that Eileen wasn't familiar with, but was certain it was Dark. The spell slashed exactly from the Dark Lord's right underarm, across his chest to his collar bone. An artery had been cut and was already spurting blood.

The Dark Lord shot off a few more spells at the messy haired man, before he collapsed from blood loss and exertion. The green-eyed man walked up to the Dark Lord to deliver the finishing blow, but never made it. Lord Voldemort, Tom Marvolo Riddle, used the last of his dying strength to raise his wand and shout, "Avada Kedavra!"

The young man of twenty-four was caught off guard by the sudden burst of energy and was hit by the green light shot from the dying dark lord's wand. He hit the ground hard, his unseeing eyes forever frozen in shock. There was a wheezing laugh from the Dark Lord, and with his last breath, he said, "I've defeated the great Harry Potter. Finally, he's dead."


End file.
